The Glory of Denial_Dark on the Line_What Friends Share Between Them_Red. Not Black.
Catalog Guide:
The Glory of Denial
When something bad happens, there's a few ways you can deal with it. They're so common that they're listed as stages. To grief. They can come in any order, really. Who should say that you have to feel pain in the "right" order? There’s anger, an obvious one. How could you not blame the world for dealing you a crappy hand? Then there’s bargaining. I’ve never really understood this stage. I wasn’t sure even what it was supposed to be. I’www.onedoor.ccve always imagined that it was like comparing. Like if somebody else lost their parents to disease, is it really so bad that my arm is broken? It seems cruel t...
Dark on the Line
Lyra’s cheek rubbed up against the cold, fogged glass of the train window as the trees rushed by, each one appearing and disappearing like a still image in a zoetrope, immediately replaced by another. Her vision blurred as she watched them pass, trying to concentrate on something, anything, other than the aching pain in her chest. It wasn’t a literal pain, but an ethereal throb that crawled beneath her ribs and nestled in the chambers of her heart. The hollow pain that could only come from the passing of a loved one. As the train rattled and Lyra’s head vibrated on the window, she couldn’t bri...
What Friends Share Between Them
"Juniper, what time do you want to throw this little shindig you're trying to throw?" Hale didn't really want to deal with other people tonight, but whatever. Juniper was fussing with her hair and clothes, spraying her Halston perfume in the air and twirling around in the mist. "Why are you always so grumpy about other people being around?" Juniper was far more outgoing than her husband, Hale, a serious, professorial sort, and thought frivolity was tantamount to blasphemy, a cardinal sin. The couple was as different as any two could be, but, in a true example of opposites attract, their relat...
Red. Not Black.
Swaddled in three layers of filthy plump blankets, I lay there, my thoughts shattered into slick glass pieces of the universe. The faucet in the background is dripping sullen water that drums to the beat of my dead, foolish heart. “drip….drip” said the faucet “shut up.” said my shattered thoughtsI don’t know how long I stayed there, dry crust forming at the end of my eye—an occasional tear dancing down my ugly face. “drip….drip,” said the faucet “shut up.” said my shattered thoughts“DING DONG” went the doorbell.shut u-“DING DONG”i said..shut the f-“DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG”Then, I could hear t...